


You Meet A Man

by Wikiaddicted723



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 20:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wikiaddicted723/pseuds/Wikiaddicted723
Summary: It's reductive, but she finds that such things no longer matter much. Diana ponders on the beginning, and all the ends in it.





	You Meet A Man

  
This is how it goes:

You meet a man. You follow him into the world, this birthright of his kind that you're sworn to protect. And the world is vast and varied, beautiful and grotesque--you ponder, later on, on the causality of this remark, this thought you file into the grand archive of your learning: can beauty exist, without the perfect counterpoint of the grotesque?

You meet a man. He is noble and good, and he loves you.

You love him, too, you find, when he says your name in the hushed tones of worship; when he follows you into a wall of bullets, the candle of his faith a beacon in this unknown darkness, a bubble of song amidst the sobs and the pained groans and the cries for mothers that never come, that can't console the children dying.

You love him, when he sets fire to the sky and in all the moments after.

This is your truth. You know because it aches, there in the newly dug moat around the stringy muscle of your heart, that strange thing the size of a fist that keeps you going, that makes you fight, that gives you purpose.

You were raised on the memory of failure, the dust of tragedy. You learned your poets young. You think, for long decades after, that they should've prepared you better for this, the bitter taste of mortality.

It's reductive, perhaps, to think of it in terms of one person, one meeting, one single strand in the multilayered weave of your life. So much more happened. So many more suffered or didn't, died or didn't, loved or didn't--

It doesn't matter. You undertsand selfishness, at last. You know it, now, for the refuge it provides.

You don't like to think of the war.

You never stop thinking about him.


End file.
